


A Very Android Christmas

by Living_In_a_Fantasy



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Connor is learning, Gen, Hank is too, Protective Connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 14:48:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17045693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Living_In_a_Fantasy/pseuds/Living_In_a_Fantasy
Summary: “Is this because of Cole?” Connor asked. It was the only logical reason he could think of. Hank had likely celebrated Christmas with his son, but now that his son was dead, the holiday may be painful for him. He should try a different, more sympathetic route. “If it is, I can ensure that we participate in activities that are different from the ones you partook in with your late son.”“Connor. Drop it.”





	A Very Android Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Just some Connor being a cute boy for your holiday enjoyment.

Connor was…upset.

At least, he thought he was upset. He was still trying to get a grasp on what exactly these emotions were and what they meant. Fear had been the easiest to identify, when Hank had held that gun to his head and asked if he was afraid to die. His programming had fought it, but somewhere, deep beyond that programming, a terrible gnawing sensation had risen in him, threatening to choke him. He’d inexplicitly found his voice box unable to make a sound, despite the fact that everything had been functioning correctly.

It made sense to Connor that fear was the easiest emotion for him to identify. Fear, of course, was innate in all living things. Humans, on the other hand, experienced a wide range of complex emotions that Connor found difficult to understand. But fear, even the most basic lifeform understood fear.

But other emotions, like this strange, uncomfortable feeling settled somewhere inside him, was not fear.

And so, he could only conclude that he was upset.

Satisfied, Connor crossed the room to stand beside Hank. The older man had the television on, turned to a basketball game. He’d been sitting there silently for the past couple of hours, nursing the same beer and not speaking.

And Connor was upset.

“Lieutenant Anderson,” Connor announced. Using one’s name was the easiest way to attract an individual’s attention, after all. “I am, upset.”

“God, I have an upset android now,” Hank groaned, dropping back against his sofa, arms sprawled over the head of the couch. Hank was grasping the beer by the threads of his fingers – a 68% chance of him dropping it. “I’ll bite. What are you upset about?”

“It is Christmas Eve, lieutenant, and you are becoming intoxicated while watching a sports game instead of enjoying the festivities.”

“Enjoying the-“Hank shifted, arms spreading farther apart. 74% probability of him dropping the bottle now. “Maybe this is just how I celebrate Christmas, you ever think of that, Connor?”

Connor blinked at him slowly. Nothing in his records indicated that humans celebrated the Christmas holiday in such a way, and Hank has technically a Christian, meaning he didn’t avoid the celebration for religious reasons. “No.”

Hank sighed, as if Connor was the one being difficult here. “I _like_ basketball,” he said. “And I like drinking. And I like having the day off.” He gestured towards the TV. “Do you mind?”

The bottle slipped, but Connor had been prepared for this eventuality, catching it easily and turning in one smooth motion. “We should partake in one of the more traditional Christmas activities,” Connor said, pouring the last of the beer down the drain despite Hank’s shouts from the couch. “Perhaps we could turn on some type of Christmas film,” Connor suggested. “Or, I could go pick up a traditional Christmas meal for you and return here with it.”

“I’m just ordering Chinese food,” Hank dismissed. “And I don’t want to watch some sappy Christmas movie.”

“Is this because of Cole?” Connor asked. It was the only logical reason he could think of. Hank had likely celebrated Christmas with his son, but now that his son was dead, the holiday may be painful for him. He should try a different, more sympathetic route. “If it is, I can ensure that we participate in activities that are different from the ones you partook in with your late son.”

“Connor. Drop it.”

Hank was using that voice he often used right before he started yelling. Connor frowned, calculating the probability that pushing the issue would get him yelled at by Hank.

On the one hand, he didn’t enjoy being yelled at by Hank. The older man was allowing him to stay with him in his home after all, and it would be impolite to make him angry on his day off. However, Connor was also free now, which meant he didn’t need to make his decisions based on the most logical choice.

The most logical choice would be to let Hank be with his basketball and his beer and his Chinese food.

What Connor wanted was to make Hank happy, and he realized that these activities would not, in fact, make Hank happy, despite what the other man may think.

“I am afraid that I have to insist,” Connor said. “As your friend, it is my responsibility to make sure that you have an enjoyable Christmas.”

“Where the hell in your programming does it say that?” Hank asked. “I’m telling you, leave me alone.”

“I’m sorry lieutenant, but you leave me no choice.” Connor crossed the room and picked up the remote from the couch, turning off the TV. “Why don’t we go out? I hear the Christmas light displays are excellent this time of year.”

“I don’t want to look at any damn Christmas lights, Connor,” Hank snapped. “I want to get drunk and watch basketball!”

“I believe a little bit of fresh air might do you good,” Connor insisted. “Besides, it is Christmas Eve, and break ins are notoriously high on this night. We may see something and have to intervene if we go out.”

Hank sighed, dropping his neck back over the sofa. He was silent for a long time, one minute and 32 seconds, before speaking. “If I take you to look at the damn lights will you leave me alone?”

“Yes, lieutenant.”

“Let’s just fucking go then,” he grumbled, rolling himself off the couch onto stiff legs. He groaned as he ambled towards the closet. “I’m getting too old for this shit.”

“On the contrary,” Connor said, as Hank pulled on his winter jacket, “you are still a minimum of 12 years from retirement age.”

“Shut up, Connor.”

The streets were fairly quiet. It was snowing lightly, just enough to add what Connor believed to be an ambient amount of snow to their surroundings. Hank was complaining beside him, about a mixture of subjects including the cold and Connor himself.

Connor no longer felt upset. Instead, he felt a bit lighter, as if a heavy part inside him had been removed. He believed this was what humans referred to as ‘happy’.

“Do you enjoy Christmas?” Connor asked as they walked. There were many aesthetically pleasing light displays across the city, even in their own neighborhood. Some humans still used the more traditional LED lights, but many had opted for projector devices that display Christmas scenes on the side of their homes or made digital snow fall from the sky. Connor himself found the display of Santa flying around the house to be rather highly technical and enjoyable.

“Not really,” Hank said. “Usually just means more crime and more work.”

“I believe that humans refer to it as ‘the most wonderful time of the year,’” Connor quoted. “What is it you find unpleasant about the holiday?”

Hank sighed. It was the 12th time he had sighed at something Connor had said today, which was 13% more often than he usually did. “Connor,” Hank said slowly, “just because I’m a human doesn’t mean I like Christmas. And hell, as an android you can feel free to enjoy or not enjoy Christmas as much as you want. But I, personally, am _not interested.”_

Connor frowned, eyes scanning Hank’s face for any evidence that would point to him telling the truth or not. It was true that Hank did not fit a typical American demographic, but he also tended to be interested in more traditional activities, such as reading physical books. “I would expect that with your interest in more ‘retro’ items and traditions that you might have still enjoyed Christmas from a nostalgic point of view,” Connor said. And then, “Can you tell me about how you experienced Christmas as a child before the technology boom?”

Hank chuckled. “Before the technology boom, huh? And I thought that happened years before I was born.” His eyes remained trained on a house with some of the traditional LED lights. “A lot has changed since I was a kid, Connor.”

“At 53 years old I am sure you have seen many changes,” Connor agreed. “My data records show that in the 1980s computers were not even yet common in the average American home.”

“You got that right,” Hank said. “My parents didn’t get a computer until I was…I think, about fifteen years old.” He nodded to himself. “Meanwhile, kids are getting their own fucking androids. Well, not anymore,” he added.

“So what was Christmas like back then?” Connor asked. “Did you prefer it to Christmas now?”

“Christmas isn’t about technology, Connor,” Hank said. His eyes hadn’t left the house, which was outfitted with a mix of LED lights and several lit figures of fictional Christmas characters. Hank’s eyes looked far away. “It’s about spending time with the people you care about. Friends. Family.” His eyes closed, briefly. “I’ve not had a reason to have anything to do with Christmas for years.”

Connor frowned. So it was as he had suspected. Hank was unhappy because his son, Cole, was not here to celebrate him. “We can celebrate Christmas together,” Connor announced. “I realize I am not a part of your family, but I would enjoy partaking in Christmas traditions with you if you will have me.”

“Connor-“

There was the tinkering of glass from approximately twenty-five feet away. Connor and Hank froze. Connor quickly began running calculations. The sound of glass breaking at that distance and that volume indicated someone was breaking into a home, probably through a door window, to get inside and steal from the home they had both been observing.

“Stay behind me,” Hank said, voice pitched low as he carefully opened the gate surrounding the home and slipped into the yard.

Connor followed, close behind. He’d never understood why Hank insisted on going first in a dangerous situation. Connor was more likely to survive a confrontation than Hank was. Humans broke much easier than androids.

Sure enough, as they rounded the corner it was to find a broken window and an open door. The backyard was dark, and no lights in the house were on. Hank slowly stepped inside, somehow managing to avoid stepping on any of the broken glass in the kitchen.

Connor could see much farther in the dark than Hank, especially before his friend’s eyes had time to adjust to the darkness, so it was Connor who saw the man with the gun first. “Lieutenant,” he warned, shoving Hank out of the way as the criminal opened fire.

The bullet lodged into his arm, much preferable to Hank’s more vulnerable limbs. Connor kicked the gun from the man’s hand, striking his nose with his elbow and flipping him onto the floor, holding him down with his knees. “I don’t suppose you have your handcuffs on you, do you lieutenant?”

“Jesus Christ,” Hank muttered. “I’ll call it in.”

* * *

 

Red warnings blazed across his vision. His arm felt fine; he knew he’d been shot, could feel how the parts in his arm weren’t functioning correctly, but it didn’t _hurt_. Still, the flashing across his vision and the warning alarms in his ears were disconcerting.

He would probably have to go to a technician tonight now, to have it taken care of.

“Police are on their way,” Hank said, crouching down beside Connor and kicking the criminal’s gun away. “Are you alright?”

“Several biocomponents were damaged from the bullet,” Connor said. His weight on top of the man was more than enough to keep the criminal down. He tested his arm. It still moved, but his fingers opened and closed slowly, in a jerky, forced motion. “I believe I will require a technician to take care of this.”

“You’re bleeding,” Hank said. “Do we have to…I don’t know, stop the bleeding?”

“Negative,” Connor said. “The Thirium is flowing out slowly, so it shouldn’t be a problem as long as I see a technician relatively soon.”

“We should at least put pressure on it or something,” Hank said.

“It will be fine,” Connor insisted. “My system will automatically monitor my prognosis, so I can warn you if I am in any danger.”

“Well as soon as the police pick this guy up I’m taking you to one of those emergency android things,” Hank said.

“I would certainly hate to disrupt your-“

“Connor,” Hank snapped. “I’m taking you to get fixed up, got it?” Connor could detect, just barely (even with his advanced programming), a tremor in his friends voice.

Of course, Hank did not have many individuals he was close to. It was only logical that he would be concerned for Connor’s well being. Knowing that made Connor feel oddly warm.

Maybe some of his parts were heating up in his arm from the bullet.

“Yes, that would probably be for the best,” Connor said. “The closest facility is 12.2 miles away and will take approximately 25 minutes to reach in current traffic conditions.

Hank shook his head slowly. “You’re unbelievable, you know that don’t you?”

“After I have been repaired, shall we return to your home to continue watching the game?” As much as Connor felt he should be pushing his friend to do a more traditional Christmas activity, his plan to take him out to look at Christmas lights had not exactly gone according to plan. Maybe it was better to do things Hank’s way, at least for this year.

“Nah,” Hank said, waving the police down as a car with flashing lights came to a stop on the street. “The game was pretty boring anyway. I’ll introduce you to a Christmas movie I used to like when I was a kid. Give you a bit of a history lesson.”

Connor smiled. _Happy_ , his mind supplied. _This feeling is called happy._


End file.
